MomBert makes me pretty things because I got older

I turned half a century on Groundhogs Day. MomBert showed up with one of her gorgeous stained glass windows featuring my five felines.

Her skills with cutting and designing with glass have improved wildly from her first window which was, of course, a cat. Retirement and studio space have allowed her to keep making whatever she wants. Sadly, I am running out of window space to hang her creations.

(No, she does not sell them. She does not think people would buy them based on what she would need to charge for time and labor. I think she’s wrong.)

Whisker Haiku

It’s Whisker Wednesday and National Haiku Poetry Day.

Whiskers akimbo

Tuxedo intensity

So many demands

#badcathaiku

Yes, that is her art behind her Wigglebothum.

Sun Cult

A sign of spring is that the sun worshipers are back. I’m not sure why the coveted fluffy bed is the focal point, but it’s nice to see them hang out together.

Where is Homer, you ask?

He was busy being orange.

I Might Be Biased

What animals make the best/worst pets?

As we hit mid morning nap time, I couldn’t adore my five roommates more. They are adorable sleepy angels.

They are also not sneezing into my mouth, screaming to be fed at 5 a.m., leaving surprise dingleberries in my sleepy path, leaving cold slimy hairballs in my sleepy path, throwing up recent food from the top of a bookshelf, shredding the plastic bag and sampling the one bagel I was saving for a breakfast treat, furiously pounding on the bathroom door because I dared close it, wrestling to leave tufts of hair across the carpet right after I vacuumed, or testing all lamps and tchotchkes to see if I remembered to secure them with museum putty.

Cats are the best. ( Really. I love them.)

Little Adventures: Found Mothman

MomBert and I went on a little day adventure and learned that much of the world now closes on Mondays. However we found a sufficient amount of spots open to satiate our urge to look at old dusty antiques. We also found Mothman!

If you’re unfamiliar with this West Virginia based cryptid, take a moment to explore the virtual version of the museum. Mothman hangs in Point Pleasant, West Virginia, and is tied to multiple sightings, omens, and a bridge collapse.

Fortunately, the one open antique store was right beside the trading post full of all your cryptid needs including Bigfoot and the Flatwoods Monster, another West Virginia resident. We didn’t buy any old dusty items, but I did purchase some festive mothy things. We did not venture into the adjacent museum. Another trip perhaps.

Point Pleasant also hosts a Mothman Festival that has been on my radar for a while now. I’m guessing it’s a big moneymaker for a small river town. What better draw than a winged creature with, as Heather from Sinisterhood podcast has pointed out, a very juicy booty.

Little Adventures: Skunk Cabbage Achieved

After years of seeing metro park posts about skunk cabbage, one of the first spring wildflowers,I finally got to see some live and in person.

The ones that ABBF and I found were partially submerged in a swampy area. Their glorious lime and dark purple fashion choices were still vibrant and I could see the funky inner spadix.

Apparently skunk cabbage creates its own heat which helps it bloom in cold weather and can also entice bugs looking for a cozy hideaway. The putrid skunk smell also pulls in the bugs, and was the other reason I wanted to see one.

The swampy area was accessible via a boardwalk, and unfortunately, all of the skunk cabbages were at least a foot away from the boardwalk. Makes sniffin’ hard.

So I made a choice that is probably along the lines of why the National Park Service has to put up signs stating to not to pet the fluffy buffalos. I asked ABBF to hold my hat and glasses, laid down on the boardwalk, gripped the edge, and stuck my nose in a skunk cabbage. ABBF did not take a picture because he was convinced that he would have to rescue me. However my sweet yoga energy saved me from face planting into the few inches of swamp water and muck. (Actually my ass end is the far heavier end and it was firmly planted on the boardwalk.)

Unfortunately, I did not get that sweet, sweet, putrid skunk stank just musty water and rotting leaves. Some online sources suggested that you have to bruise the leaves to get the stink, but my stronger suspicion is that the water was blocking the smell.

The quest continues.

What Tattoo Where

What tattoo do you want and where would you put it?

I think I’ve maxed out my tattoo budget for the moment. Perhaps in the future a tiny boat so I can tell MomBert that I DO own a boat. Maybe some more bugs or a blue jay feather.

MomBert is not a fan even if the date is cool.

Caturday Cub

Just a lion cub’s tum in a box of paper. That is all.

Don’t GET. UP.

Olivia Wigglebothum continues to misinterpret the goals and techniques of the GET. UP. Committee. This morning, she cried until I lifted the blankets enough for her to get under them; snuggled into my armpit; sneezed directly into my face, we’re still battling a cat herpes flare up; then went to sleep on my arm. I certainly wasn’t getting up after that.

The Wigglebothum

Miles had to send in Homer to chase invisible adversaries across the covers to get me going.

Just Some Raccoon Paws

This is what happens when my brain is too tired to do “homework,” but it seems too early to go to bed. When I’m that tired everything is hilarious and sort of a good idea.

ABBF had freshly shaved his head and I said, “What if tiny, leathery little raccoon or opossum paws were rubbing it?” He does like a nice scalp massage.

Then Brain was like, “Can we make this weirder?!”

Always.